


A Series Of Mystrade Events

by PrettyKitty93



Series: A Series Of Mystrade Events [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Assault, BDSM, Canonical Character Death, Car Make Outs, Character Death, Comfort/Angst, Cute, Developing Relationship, Drinking, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Office Sex, Pain, Parentlock, Past Child Abuse, Prompt Fic, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyKitty93/pseuds/PrettyKitty93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just as the title says, a series of one shot, prompt fics based around Mycroft and Greg. Rated Explicit for later on.</p><p>P.S I changed the title just to make it sound better xxxxx</p><p>P.P.S Oops, chapter three should be where chapter two is. That's changed now xxxxx</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Misbehave

**Author's Note:**

> I used the moonblossom sherlock prompter for these but they are slightly different to the prompts. Enjoy xxxxxx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft gets an invite from Inspector Lestrade, a man who he's been quite interested in for a while.  
> But obviously it is strictly professional, or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I had a comment from someone about how Mycroft seems impatient and unable to not give Greg what he wants (Which is an opinion so I'm not gonna make a snide remark, I promise). If anyone else feels the same then I just wanna say that this story is based on the fact that Mycroft and Greg know of each other and Mycroft has fancied Greg for a while.  
> He never thought Greg felt the same way until this night. Mycroft's only giving Greg what he wants purely as a test for the older man.  
> So, yeah. Hope that explains it. Don't worry, eventually Mycroft will get a backbone ;) when he's done being a love-sick sap :p xxxxx

“Inspector Lestrade.” Mycroft greets professionally, holding a hand out to shake.

“Ah, Mr Holmes. Would you like a drink?” The older man smiles, shaking Mycroft's hand.

“Mycroft, please. And I'll have an orange juice, please. I only drink at home.” Mycroft smiles back, but only briefly.

“Just have an alcoholic one, would ya? I won't tell no one. And it's Greg or Lestrade.”

“Gregory, as much as I don't doubt you will tell anyone, I'm here strictly on business.”

“What can I get you boys?” The young blonde waitress asks them cheerfully.

“Two scotches, please, love.” Greg grins and gives her a wink.

“Gregory.” Mycroft warns, giving Greg one of his signature glares.

“Relax. Have a bit of fun. I'm sure the world won't fall apart just because you're having a few drinks.” Greg grins at the younger man and even gives him a wink too.

“A few drinks? I believe I _asked_ for an orange juice.” Mycroft replies, still glaring at the older man.

“And I ordered you a whiskey. You like whiskey, right? I asked your assistant, Anthea? I think that's her name.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I wanted to talk with you.”

“And my office wouldn't have been appropriate?”

“I thought neutral territory. And besides, from what I've heard, I thought you might have wanted to get out of the office.”

“Anthea told you that much?”

“I have my _ways_ of getting information out of a gorgeous young woman.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I was your secret husband.” Greg grins wickedly, sipping his scotch.

“... What?” Mycroft splutters on his drink.

“I told her I was interested, ya daft git. As if you believed that.” Greg chuckles sweetly.

“Of course.” Mycroft replies, blushing into his drink.

Greg continues to chuckle softly.

“So you're _interested_ in me, are you?” Mycroft says suddenly.

“Um, well, yeah.” Greg replies and this time it's his turn to blush.

“Why?”

“I … honestly, don't know."

“That is _interesting_.” Mycroft actually grins back at the older man.

x..x

Three hours later and Mycroft is on his twelfth glass of scotch with Greg Lestrade.

“Wow, you got strong stomach.” Greg slurs, gesturing at Mycroft.

“ _Very_ , Gregory.” Mycroft grins.

Truth be told though, Mycroft's brain is feeling a little fuzzy but he won't let the very drunk silver fox know that.

 _Silver fox? Where did that thought come from? Although, he is very handsome for his age._ Mycroft thinks as he looks at the older man; he's talking about something but Mycroft isn't really listening.

“Oi, Myc. You there?” The older man interrupts Mycroft's train of thought.

“Well, obviously.” Mycroft replies with a slight smile.

“Don't mean physic'lly, mean lit'ry.” Greg continues to slur, a lop-sided grin appearing on his face.

 _Wow, he actually looks younger with that dopey little lop-sided grin._ Mycroft involuntarily smiles at the thought, causing Greg to give him a look.

“What's got ya smilin'?”

“Just a thought.”

“Speaking ov thoughts. Wanna get outta here?” Greg smiles again, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

“I don't think that would be a good idea, Gregory.”

“Afraid you might hav' fun?” Greg replies and the lop-sided grin appears again.

For some reason, Mycroft loves that daft bloody lop-sided grin and realises that he can't resist, necking his drink and offering a hand to Greg.

“That's more like it.” Greg grins, swigging his drink and grabbing Mycroft's hand.

The older man allows himself to be pulled out of the pub and even allows himself to be pinned to the car by the younger man. The action even surprises Mycroft as he's not done something so spontaneous since he was fifteen.

“Sumone's got brave.” Greg slurs with a smile.

“Let's blame it on the alcohol, shall we?” Mycroft smiles.

“And there was me thinkin' ya fancied me.” Greg grins back at the younger man.

“Depends on how you feel, Gregory.” Mycroft replies softly, looking Greg in the eyes.

“Thought that was obvious. Pretty sure I'v bin droppin' hints all night.”

“Well then ...” Mycroft replies with a smile, leaning in to kiss Greg.

The kiss is slow and experimental but it's nice. Warm lips pressing against slightly colder ones, two different shaped mouths moving together and soft moans exchanged between the two men.

“In the car.” Greg breathes into Mycroft's lips, feeling light headed.

Mycroft pulls Greg away from the car and is about to open the front door when the older man places his hand on the door handle of the back door, giving a little cough.

“Oh. Oh!” Mycroft replies, blushing bright red.

“Shall we?” Greg smiles suggestively.

“Indeed.” Mycroft smiles back, climbing into the back of the car when Greg opens it.

Mycroft lies down in the back seat of his car as Greg crawls on to of him, closing the door behind him. He presses his lips to the younger man's softly, running his hands up his chest as the younger man moans softly into his lips.

Mycroft opens his mouth and allows Greg to slip his tongue into his mouth; exploring it thoroughly. Mycroft moans louder, copying Greg's actions and even biting the older man's bottom lip softly.

“I haven't done anything like this since I was fifteen.” Mycroft admits softly, blushing a little.

“Me either. I never kissed my wife in car, let alone made out in the back.” Greg replies with his little lop-sided grin, his speech slightly less slurred and tipsy than before.

Mycroft smiles softly to himself, cocking his head a little to look at Greg from a different angle.

“What ya keep smiling at?” Greg asks softly.

Mycroft blushes before whispering, “That dopey lop-sided grin of yours is … adorable.”

Greg smiles downwards before replying, “Really?”

“Yes. In fact, I think I keep trying to make you smile to see if you'll do it.”

“Well, I'll see if I can comply to your request then.” Greg replies, purposely putting on his lop-sided grin again.

“Just kiss me, Gregory.” Mycroft replies with his own seductive smile.

“With pleasure.” Greg smiles and leans down to kiss the younger man again.

This time, he nibbles on his bottom lip, bringing out a delicious moan from the younger man that sends electricity straight to his groin.

Greg unconsciously rubs up against Mycroft and discovers that he's sporting a hard-on too, which causes him to moan into Mycroft's mouth.

“Mmm, _Gregory_.” Mycroft moans loudly, tipping his head back.

Greg loosens Mycroft's tie and unbuttons his shirt so he can lick from the younger man's collarbones up his neck and meet his lips in a passionate kiss.

Mycroft moans again, moving his hips slightly to rub against Greg's erection and causing the older man to moan as well.

“So, is this going to be a regular occurrence then?” Greg asks, pulling away from Mycroft's lips a little.

“If you want it to be.” Mycroft replies awkwardly.

“You should know, I don't have _friends with benefits_. I'm more of the romantic type. If you can't offer me that then I understand.” Greg replies honestly, his eyes soft and gentle.

“I'd offer you anything as long you'll keep smiling like that at me.” Mycroft smiles softly, before looking down and blushing bright red.

“Someone's definitely had too much to drink. I doubt you'd be _this_ honest if I hadn't got alcohol down your throat. Although, keep talking like that and I might just accept.” Greg grins back, trying to keep the mood light in case Mycroft wants to back out.

“I think I'd very much like that, Gregory. I enjoy spending time with you and it's only been a few hours. I don't know what's going on.”

“Hey. It's okay, I can help you through this. If you want me to?”

“Definitely. So, could we make something work? Or do you think I'm too … _high maintenance_.”

“I have a habit for getting involved with high maintenance people. Besides, we both have hectic schedules so it shouldn't piss you off like it did my wife.”

“True. But my schedule seems to be more hectic.”

“I could live with that.” Greg smiles softly, pecking a kiss on Mycroft's lips.

“So could I.” Mycroft agrees, cupping Greg's cheek.


	2. Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft is acting unusual and it worries Greg.  
> But little does Greg know that the older Holmes has a big surprise and an even bigger decision to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I added this and also swapped it for the original chapter three. Because as soon as I started writing this, I knew it had to put this in xxxxxx

“Mikey? What are you doing?” Greg asks curiously, watching the younger man battling with a pair of sheers.

“What does it look like, Gregory? I'm trying to trim this _bloody_ bush.” Mycroft replies awkwardly, trying to avoid being poked in the eye by stray branches.

“Why? We have a gardener who _you_ pay for. So _why_ are you doing his job?”

“Because … Because I want to.” Mycroft whispers, blushing bright red.

“What's this about? You made me breakfast in bed, you _insisted_ I take the day off work, you're taking me out to dinner tonight … Not that I don't _love_ the effort you're putting in but what is going on, Mikey?”

“I just … I'd like to spend the day with you.”

“Okay, don't tell me. I know how dramatic you are and I'll leave you to your secrecy. _But_ I want an explanation _tonight_. Okay?” Greg replies, smiling softly.

“And you shall have one.” Mycroft smiles back, looking at the sheers in his hand awkwardly.

“I'll leave you to it.” Greg chuckles, going back into their house to finish off his coffee.

x..x

“Okay, Mikey. Now I need an explanation.” Greg says softly, as the waiter grins widely and conspiratorially with the older Holmes.

“I … I wanted to do this properly. That's what today's been all about. I was thinking of leaving this until we were at home in the back garden but I guess I got a little, um, excited. And decided that here would be much more romantic.” Mycroft whispers, blushing bright red as he digs into his pocket for something.

Greg doesn't understand what Mycroft is doing as he stands up but realises as the older Holmes stands in front of him before getting down on one knee and holding out the ring to the older man.

“Mmm, Gregory Lestrade, will … will you marry me ...”

"Myc ...” Greg interrupts, already knowing his answer.

“... I know it's only be nine months but it's been the best nine months of my life, Gregory. And I'd like to spend another nine months … no, years and years with you in my life. I've never loved anyone like I love you, Gregory ...”

“Mikey! Yes. Yes, I'll marry you. Of course I will, you daft git. Now stop rambling and kiss me, for God's sake.” Greg replies, grinning like an idiot.

Mycroft does as he's told and pulls the older man down for a passionate kiss, just as the whole room erupts with applause; women squealing while husbands try to shush them and children wondering what is going on.

“I love you, Gregory.” Mycroft smiles softly, still cupping his partner's cheek.

“I love you too, Myc.” Greg smiles back, pecking a kiss on his partner's lips.

Mycroft suddenly remembers the ring and takes it out of the box, placing it on Greg's finger.

The band is simple, just a silver band with a carving on the inside but it's the most beautiful thing Greg has ever seen. He smiles back at his partner, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the restaurant.

“Where are we going, Gregory?” Mycroft asks softly, letting his partner lead the way.

“Home. Obviously. I want to make out in _our_ back garden until we get cold and then I want to curl up with you while we keep warm, and then I want to take you up to our room and do some _very_ illegal things to you, Mycroft Holmes.” Greg whispers in Mycroft's ear, his hand roaming down the younger man's chest and to his belt buckle. “Is that alright with you?”

“I … I think that … could be suitable … yes, definitely.” Mycroft whispers breathlessly, chewing on his lip.

“Good, then let's go.” Greg grins, pulling Mycroft to their car and practically throwing him in.

“I love you, Gregory. And … I'm _pretty_ sure that I've _never_ been this turned on in my whole life.” Mycroft whispers, trying not to think about the _illegal things_ Greg has in store for him.

“I love you too, baby. And don't worry, we'll sort _that_ out later.” Greg grins again, a sparkle in his eye.


	3. Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft plays a song from his childhood on the piano for Greg which leads to an interesting discussion and slow dancing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the sheet music for Prelude in C major - http://www.gmajormusictheory.org/Freebies/Classics/WTCPrelu.pdf. In case any of you play piano and want to learn it. It really is beautiful.  
> Listen to it here :) - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlAic9aPoqs
> 
> Anyway enjoy xxxxxx

Mycroft Holmes has always loved music. Ever since he was a little boy and his mother handed him a piano guide on sheet music. It was his favourite present and he kept it with him through to adulthood.

Now at the age of 46, Mycroft picks up the book; _The Well Tempered Clavier_ and runs his fingers across it softly; the memories of playing piano for his family flowing back.

“Are you going to play for me, baby?” The voice interrupts Mycroft's thoughts.

“Yes, I thought I might.” Mycroft smiles softly to himself, sitting down at his piano and opening the book at his favourite page.

He doesn't really need the sheet music anymore as he has Bach's _Prelude in C major_ compiled to memory but it's all part of the show; a grand piano, music sheet and the pianist as one.

“Mm, what's this? It's beautiful.”

“Johann Sebastian Bach or more commonly known as Bach. And this is his Prelude in C major.” Mycroft smiles softly as the older man sits next to him on the stool.

“Definitely beautiful.” Greg smiles, watching Mycroft play.

“Indeed.” Mycroft replies in agreement.

“I wasn't talking about the music that time.” Greg grins, trying to catch the younger man's eye.

“Oh. Well, thank you, Gregory. But I think it's time we arranged an eye test for you.” Mycroft replies gently, blushing slightly.

“There's nothing wrong with my eyesight, Myc. I can just appreciate _real_ beauty.”

Mycroft ceases playing for a moment to look at his partner, “If your eyesight isn't bad then you must be crazy. There's nothing _beautiful_ or remotely _appealing_ about me, Gregory.”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Myc. And the beholder sees that you are beautiful. Simple as.” Greg smiles, cupping his partner's cheek and kissing him softly.

“Thank you, Gregory. But I have to disagree that _you_ are the most attractive between us.” Mycroft smiles back, resting his hand on Greg's thigh.

“I love you, you know that?” Greg asks softly, smiling a little.

“Indeed I do. And I love you too, Gregory.”

“Come dance with me. I know you probably have this on tape or something.” Greg replies, standing up and holding a hand out for his partner.

“I have a tape of me playing, if that counts.” Mycroft replies shyly, looking down at the piano.

“That sounds _perfect_.” Greg smiles, pulling Mycroft up off the stool and directing him to the stereo.

Mycroft puts the tape in and walks back to Greg, resting a hand on his waist and bringing his hand up to meet his partner's.

“Oh, so you get to lead do you?” Greg grins but doesn't attempt to rectify the situation.

“You can't dance, as proved at our ceremony.” Mycroft grins back, the memory of his partner stumbling over his feet causing him to chuckle.

“As you wish then, baby.” Greg replies with a smile.

They move around the floor gracefully; well Mycroft moves gracefully while Greg just tries not to stumble over, and as the song reaches it's end, they slow to a gentle sway. They continue to sway long after the piece is finished, just lost in each other's embrace and the moment of calm and quiet; which they rarely have due to their schedules.

“I love this.” Greg whispers in his partner's shoulder. “Dancing with you, I mean. Well, spending time with you _at all_. Just me and you with the rest of the world locked out, it's nice.”

“I love this too. I wish we could do it more, Gregory.” Mycroft sighs softly, resting his head against Greg's.

“It's okay, it's not your fault.”

“And it's not yours either.”

Greg hums in agreement, too tired to say anything.

“Tired?” Mycroft asks softly, kissing his partner's head.

“Yeah.”

“Go lie down and I'll play some more Bach.” Mycroft replies, gently pulling back from Greg and looking him in the eyes.

“Thanks, baby.” Greg smiles, kissing his partner softly before going to lie down on the little couch.

Mycroft goes back to his piano and continues to play _Prelude in C major_ as a lullaby for his partner.

The melody fills the small study and before the older Holmes has finished playing, he hears the soft snores of his partner and decides to stop.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He says softly, kissing his partner on the forehead and going back to his desk to do some work.


	4. Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg and Mycroft have an argument so Mycroft decides to apologise with flowers.  
> And Greg decides to that Mycroft has a lot more making up to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got brave again hehe. Well, I guess technically it's not bravery anymore, it's just me trying to get in as much naughty stuff as I can ;) xxxxxx

“ _Two weeks, Myc! You were gone for TWO weeks and not even a text message! I had to find out from Sherlock! Spouting his mouth off about you not caring about me because you were going away for two weeks and you hadn't told me yet! And then when I text you to ask if you're okay and I miss you, I get no reply! I thought you were dead!” Greg shouted, shoving Mycroft in the chest._

“ _Gregory, I'm sorry ...”_

“ _NO! Don't do that! I love you, Mikey but a simple text would have been nice. Even if it was to say you'd be out of reach for a while. But NO, not even that. NOTHING.”_

“ _Gregory, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I was out of call range.” Mycroft replied softly, reaching a hand out to Greg._

“ _NO! Myc, we're partners, you should have contacted me! I was terrified. You know what, I can't deal with this right now. I need some space.” Greg replied, grabbing his coat and heading for the door._

“ _Where are you going?”_

“ _I don't know. But I need to be away from you right now, Myc.”_

_And with that said, Greg walked out and left Mycroft alone._

x..x

Greg rests his head on the desk and sighs.

“Sir, is everything okay?” Donovan asks quietly.

“I'm fine, Donovan.”

“... Okay.”

“Thanks.”

“Um, there's someone here to see you.”

“I'm busy.”

“Sir, I think it's important.”

“Fine, send 'em in.”

Donovan nods and leaves the office, “Go in.” She whispers to the man.

“Thank you.” He smiles back, walking into the office. “Gregory.”

“What do you want, Myc?” The older man asks tiredly, not looking up from the file.

“I … I bought you these.” Mycroft coughs awkwardly, holding out a bunch of flowers.

“Oh, um, thanks, Myc.” Greg replies softly, finally looking up and seeing the big, beautiful bunch of flowers.

“So, can we make up then?” Mycroft whispers, shuffling his feet.

“You brought me flowers, at work?” Greg asks, trying not to smile.

“Oh, was that a bad idea?”

“Mikey, that has to be the sweetest thing ever.” Greg smiles, standing up and walking over to the younger man.

“So you like them?” Mycroft asks hopefully.

“I love them, baby.” Greg replies, sniffing the flowers before putting them down on the desk.

“I love you, Gregory.” Mycroft smiles, holding a hand out for Greg.

Greg takes his hand and pulls him forward, kissing him softly.

“You know what I'm thinking?” He whispers, cocking an eyebrow suggestively.

“Oh. But we're at your office, Gregory.”

“I can pull the blinds and tell everyone not to disturb us for a while.” Greg smiles suggestively, running his hands down the younger man's chest.

“Mm … but, _Gregory ..._ ”

“No, Myc. You have some making up to do.” Greg smiles, walking round to the other side of the desk and moving some files out the way.

“ _Gregory,_ we could … get caught.”

“Isn't that the fun part, though?” Greg winks, gesturing Mycroft over to him. “And besides, why waste a hard on?” He adds, looking down at Mycroft's visible erection through his trousers.

“You're going to be the death of me, _Gregory_.” Mycroft smiles, walking round to the back of the desk and behind his partner.

“There's lube in the drawer.” Greg whispers, his voice becoming huskier.

“Always prepared I see.” Mycroft whispers in his partner's ear.

“My … Mikey.” Greg moans softly.

“Don't worry, I'll sort out both our _problems_.”

The younger man smiles and pulls out the lube, dropping it onto the table in front of Greg. He then pulls down his trousers and underwear a little, shivering when the cold hits his cock.

He spins Greg round and sits him on the edge of the table, pulling his pants and underwear down to his ankles. He picks up the lube again, warming it up on his fingers before applying some to himself.

“You ready?” Mycroft asks softly, leaning over his partner; who's now lying down on the desk.

“Yes. Just do it, please.” Greg moans softly, grabbing the younger man and kissing him fiercely.

Mycroft pushes into him softly, earning a loud moan from the older man.

“How's that?” Mycroft whispers softly, pulling out a little and pushing back in again.

“Faster, Myc. _Please_.” Greg moans loudly, gripping Mycroft's arms.

Mycroft does as he's told and speeds up, “Better?” Mycroft grins, shoving harder into his partner.

“ _Oh God, yes._ ” Greg moans, throwing his head back and running his nails up Mycroft's back.

“ _Gregory,_ mmm, this is amazing.” Mycroft moans, speeding up his thrusts, causing them both to moan loudly.

“ _Mycroft._ ” Greg moans, continuing to scrape his nails down the younger man's back.

“ _Gregory_.” Mycroft moans louder, gripping his partner's thighs tightly.

“MYCROFT!” Greg screams loudly; forgetting that they're in his office, before coming all over his chest.

“GREGORY!” Mycroft screams just as loud, coming inside of Greg.

Mycroft sighs and pulls out slowly, pulling Greg's legs back down.

“Oh God.” A voice says from the door, causing both men to look up and see a blushing Sherlock spin and walk out the door.

“Oops.” Greg smiles, grinning at Mycroft.


	5. Ducks

“Why do you want to go feed the ducks again?” Mycroft asks, holding the bag of dried up bread in his hand as he walks with his partner and their little twins.

“It's not me, Myc. It's Izzy and Sher who want to.” Greg replies softly, his little girl pulling on his hand.

“Please don't call him that.” Mycroft says in an exasperated tone.

“Call him what?” Greg asks, looking back at his partner.

“Sher. I allowed you to name our son Sherlock on the basis that we _didn't_ shorten it to _Sher_.” Mycroft replies, rolling his eyes at his partner.

“It's just a nickname, Mycroft. Just like I call you _Myc_.” Greg replies softly, grabbing his partner's hand.

“Sherlock will kill you if he hears you calling our son _Sher_.”

“Yes well, it doesn't matter what your little brother thinks, does it? And since when did you care, for that matter?”

“I don't. I just don't want my brother whinging as he usually does.”

“He'll have to deal with it. Won't he, Sher?” Greg replies, looking at his son.

“I don't mind it, daddy. But if it stops Uncle Sherlock getting insufferable then we can just call me Sherlock when he's around. Right, father?”

“Yes, Sherlock, we can.” Mycroft smiles proudly, handing the bread to little Sherlock.

“Thank you, father. Come on, Izzy. Let's go feed the ducks.” The little boy grins, grabbing his sister's hand and pulling her to the pond.

“You taught him _insufferable_?” Greg asks incredulously, eyeing his partner.

“Of course I did.” Mycroft continues to smile proudly.

“Does he know what it means?”

“I'm very intelligent, Gregory. I can teach a child new words as well as the meanings, thank you.”

“Mikey, he's six. Does he really need to know words like that yet?”

“Of course he does. I won't have my son saying someone's _poopy_ or a _meanie_. He will use proper words.” Mycroft replies, sounding like it's undignified for a child to use such words.

“Myc, he's just a kid. He's supposed to say things like that.” Greg replies, trying not to grin at Mycroft's argument on the matter.

“I was learning French and how to play the piano by his age. Sherlock too.”

“Mycroft, this is _our_ family we're talking about. Not yours. Come on, go easy on him.”

“I am. I allow him to do _menial_ things like _feeding the ducks_.” Mycroft replies with distaste.

“Aw, Mikey, that's what _normal_ kids do.” Greg replies, finally allowing himself to smile at the older Holmes.

“How boring.” Mycroft says simply, looking around the park.

“Oh, now I know were Sherlock got that from. I'll be sure to let John know.” Greg grins, pulling Mycroft over to the pond.

“Father, can we play on the swings?” Izzy asks excitedly.

“Well, actually ...” Mycroft breaks off as Greg elbows him. “Yes, of course.”

“Thank you, father!” Izzy exclaims, running off to the swing set with Sherlock.

“See. Easy.” Greg grins, stopping to hug Mycroft.

“It is, isn't it?” Mycroft smiles, hugging his partner softly and kissing the top of his head.

“I still can't believe you taught our son _insufferable_ and about your own brother too. Shame on you, Mycroft Holmes.” Greg grins, kissing his partner.

“I taught them _both_ some new words and meanings.” Mycroft smiles back, grabbing his partner's hand and pulling him to the playground.

“You're terrible.” Greg giggles, watching their children play with the other children.


	6. Chastisement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg has an idea about role-playing but Mycroft isn't too sure about it.  
> That is until he actually tries it and finds that it might just spice up their sex life.
> 
> Chastisement - To punish, as by beating/To criticize severely; rebuke.  
> BDSM-Many of the most common sexual roleplays involve a power differential and form part of the dominance and submission aspect of BDSM. Roles can be general designations of power positions, or very specific, detailed fantasies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I went experimental with this one. I wanted to try D/S Role Playing connected with chastisement. Or more truthfully, I wanted Greg to have a very specific kink aka dominate/submissive role playing and beating hehe. I hope you all like it ;) xxxxxx

“Gregory Lestrade, _you_ have been a _very_ naughty boy.” The younger man tuts, dragging the head of the whip up the older man's naked back.

Even has he says the words, Mycroft Holmes feels a little strange. When Greg had suggested role-play, Mycroft wasn't too sure about it; especially when it usually involves costumes and/or submissive and dominant roles. But now, looking at the older man; face down with his hands tied to the bedpost, Mycroft has to agree that maybe it _isn't_ such a bad idea after all. And maybe it's better because Greg is the submissive and just _knows_ how Mycroft likes to be in control. It seems unusual, given that Mycroft is younger but that only makes it more exciting.

As Mycroft drags the whip back down the older man's back, Greg moans softly into the pillow, making the younger man hum in approval.

“So, the question is, should I _punish_ you?” Mycroft asks in an authoritative tone.

Greg moans in agreement.

“ _Gregory,_ remember, you have to _tell_ me.”

“Yes, you _should_ punish me ...” Greg moans, looking up at the younger man; who raises an eyebrow at him before Greg continues, “... _sir_.”

“Good boy. And, I agree.” Mycroft hums, bringing the whip down on his partner's back with a loud _crack_.

Greg moans loudly and rises off the bed a little.

Mycroft hums again, a grin forming on his lips.

“Do you want _more_?” He asks, dragging the whip further down his partner's back until it's head is resting on Greg's naked bum.

Greg moans loudly and nods frantically.

Mycroft brings the whip down again, harder and Greg buries his face in the pillow to muffle a scream.

The younger man does this three more times; each time causing his partner to scream louder and buck off the bed.

Mycroft smiles widely, un-cuffing his partner and turning him over so he can see his face.

Greg whines in protest, looking at his partner softly.

“So, you want some more, do you?” Mycroft smiles, sitting down next to his partner on the bed.

Mycroft cuffs Greg's hands back to the bedpost.

“Yes, _sir_ , more.” Greg moans softly, straining against the hand-cuffs.

“As you wish.” Mycroft smiles again, standing up and slapping the whip down on his partner's inner thigh.

Greg screams loudly, pulling on his restraints.

Mycroft hums in approval, smirking down at his partner as he runs the whip across his face gently.

“Let's deal with _that,_ shall we?” He says softly, running the whip up Greg's erection.

Mycroft places the whip down on the bedside table before slowly taking his shirt and trousers off.

He crawls up Greg's body agonisingly slow, causing Greg to moan softly at his partner's seductive stare.

The younger man holds up the packet of lube that he managed to hide from Greg; ripping it open with his teeth and dropping a generous amount on Greg's erection.

Mycroft then slowly lowers himself down onto Greg, hearing the older man moan deep in his throat.

“Un-cuff me, Myc. _Please_ un-cuff me.” Greg moans, pulling on the handcuffs.

Mycroft leans over to grab the keys, quickly unlocking Greg's hands and throwing the keys and handcuffs over the side of the bed.

“Ready?” Greg asks softly, glad to be able to finally grab his partner.

“Yes.” Mycroft moans loudly, gripping his partner's hips.

Greg thrusts up into his partner, causing the younger man to nearly scream.

“We haven't had sex … like this … in a while.” Mycroft moans, shifting himself a little.

“Yeah, not since we adopted the mischievous twins.” Greg grins wickedly, thrusting up into Mycroft again.

“More, _Gregory_.” Mycroft moans, slamming himself down onto his partner.

“Oh, God! Mikey!” Greg screams, bucking his hips up unconsciously and thrusting into his partner harder.

Greg hits Mycroft's prostate and he lets out a scream.

“GREGORY!”Mycroft screams, coming all over his chest.

Greg moans Mycroft's name in response and comes inside the younger man.

Mycroft pulls off slowly and collapses next to his partner; breathing heavy.

“How did you like role-playing then?” Greg whispers softly, still breathless.

“I think it's a good way to get your partner so sexually frustrated that he's practically begging for sex.” Mycroft replies with a grin.

“So, no, then.” Greg grins back.

“Maybe once in a while.”

“Alright then.”

“Wow, I'm so tired.” Mycroft sighs softly, rolling onto his side.

“Me too, baby.” Greg smiles, wrapping his arms around his partner. “Let's clean up in the morning.”

“For once, I'm in agreement.” Mycroft sighs, curling into Greg tightly.

“Night, my love.” Greg whispers softly, kissing his partner's forehead.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” Mycroft whispers, sleep already taking over him.

Greg smiles down at his partner, flicking the blanket up with his foot so he can pull it over them.

“Definitely worth it.” He grins, snuggling down as sleep starts to overtake him.

 


	7. Fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg tries discuss the upside to having goldfish as pets, Mycroft disagrees.  
> Instead, the older Holmes wants a dog because they require interaction.  
> What will the two men decide?

“Fish are such boring creatures.” Mycroft comments, staring at the goldfish in the little bowl.

“Well, shall we get a dog instead? Because with two young children I'm _sure_ a dog would be easy to look after.” Greg replies sarcastically, grinning at his partner.

“At least you can interact with a dog. Look at them, just swimming about in a bowl. Who would want such boring creatures?” Mycroft asks in a distasteful voice that matches his little brother's.

“Apparently, fish are very therapeutic.” Greg smiles, standing next to his partner and watching the fish with him.

“Yes, in a psychologist's office.” Mycroft replies, turning away from the fish.

“Look at it this way, if one of them dies we can go to the pet shop and buy another one. The kids will never know.” Greg tries reasoning, following his partner with his eyes.

“We will _not_ lie to our children, Gregory.” Mycroft snaps, looking back at his partner.

“It's just a little lie, Myc. Just so they don't get upset over losing a pet.” Greg replies softly.

“If we lie to our children, we're not good parents.”

“Myc, every parent tells little lies to their children. My mum used to say I was an amazing dancer, and we _both_ know that isn't true.” Greg replies, grinning. “Besides I'm not telling you to lie to them about loving them, I'm just saying that a few white lies can't hurt them. After all, _you_ and Sherlock were told that caring is not an advantage. Have you discovered that was a lie yet.”

Mycroft stares silently across the room, letting the words sink in.

“... Fine. But if it comes back to bite you, don't blame me.”

“I tell you what, why _don't_ we get a dog. I mean, you're right, dogs are more fun. And you said you'd _always_ wanted a dog.”

“I thought you said we couldn't manage.” Mycroft replies, quirking an eyebrow and smiling smugly.

“We thought we couldn't manage with two kids, but we are, aren't we?” Greg asks softly, now suddenly unsure.

“Yes, we're managing fine.” Mycroft smiles gently, walking back over to his partner. “In fact, you're handling the children better than I am.”

“You're brilliant with them, they _adore_ you, Myc. You're an amazing dad. And … I'm so proud of you. You've come so far.” Greg smiles reassuringly at his partner, taking his hand and stroking his knuckles.

“I adore them too, Gregory. I just … I don't want them to resent me when they're older.”

“They could never do that, Mikey. You're the perfect dad. You give them everything they need and, you will _never_ be your father. Okay?” Greg smiles, kissing his partner softly.

Mycroft smiles back, still not able to understand how Greg can know the fears that go unsaid in Mycroft's mind. All he'd ever said about his father was that he was a depressed alcoholic. Obviously Greg had made the connection based on John's father; the connection that both sets of children were abused by their fathers due to alcohol abuse.

“You always know what to say, my dear. And you _always_ know what's going on in my head.” Mycroft replies softly, wrapping his arms around Greg.

“Not always. Just certain things. Alcohol abuse usually leads to child abuse of _some_ kind. I should know.” Greg replies sadly, resting his head on Mycroft's shoulder.

The younger man is glad that his partner doesn't mention any specific abuse, knowing it will set Mycroft off.

“Being an officer of the law must be a painful job, my dear Gregory, especially now that we have children of our own.” Mycroft whispers in an understanding manner.

“We can't keep them safe forever, one day they'll move out and have their own lives. But, for now, I'm just relieved that we do all we can.” Greg whispers into Mycroft's neck, gripping his partner tightly.

“You're right, we _should_ get a dog. It would act as extra protection for the children.”

“Myc, this place is already like Fort Knox, it couldn't get any safer.” Greg looks up and allows himself to smile.

“Technology can be infiltrated, Gregory. An animal can't.”

“Dogs like meat, all someone has to do is wave a piece of beef at it and it will go to anyone.” Greg grins at his partner.

“Be quiet, Gregory. We're getting a dog. And we are _not_ replacing the fish when they die.” Mycroft replies sternly, indicating the end of the discussion.

Greg chuckles into his partner's chest; both gazing out the living room window, “I love you, ya daft sod.”

“I love you too, my dear.” Mycroft smiles, kissing his partner's forehead.

Greg sighs happily in response, watching the sun set behind the hills.


	8. Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a 12 hour shift, Greg Lestrade just wants to go home and relax.  
> Unfortunately, Mycroft has other ideas, which Greg is more than happy to do instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally called Whiskey but my mind just went dirty so now it's called Food. Mainly because there's only a tiny mention of whiskey and way too much food and sexual innuendos.  
> Apologies for where it ended but I'll leave the rest to your imagination ;) xxxxxx 
> 
> Warning: Food Porn/Experimentation.

“Myc, what's going on?” Greg asks softly, walking into the candlelit room having just finished a twelve hour shift at the Yard.

“It's our five year anniversary, Gregory.” Mycroft smiles, walking into view with a glass of red wine for the older man.

“No, we've been together seven years, Mikey.” Greg smiles softly, accepting the offered glass of wine.

“I mean, it's five years today that we signed the adoption papers.” Mycroft clarifies with a sweet smile, sipping his own wine.

“Oh yeah, it's the twenty-fifth today, isn't it?” Greg asks with a smile, recalling the date he wrote on all the paperwork at the Yard.

“Indeed it is.”

“So, where are the little angels then?”

“Staying at their Uncles' for the night. I _did_ assume you'd be home earlier.” Mycroft replies, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Had a ton of paperwork to go through.” Greg apologises sheepishly, looking down into his glass.

“I understand, my dear. We both have very demanding jobs.” Mycroft smiles gently, kissing his partner softly.

“So, I'm guessing I'm getting told off because you had something planned?”

“I do, actually. I deduced quite early that you would be later than usual so I delayed the cooking. But, it should be done now.” The younger man smiles, heading back to the kitchen.

Greg puts his glass down on the side table and takes off his coat, grabbing the wine again and making his way to the kitchen.

“Oh, Mikey. Wow, it all looks delicious. And it's a good job as ...” Greg smiles in his awe, but is cut of by his stomach growling.

“Hungry, darling?” Mycroft asks sarcastically, grinning at his partner.

“ _Extremely_.” Greg smiles, sitting down at the kitchen table and piling his plate with food.

Mycroft looks at his partner's plate with a smirk; there's a number of slices of beef, chicken and turkey, what looks like a pound of veg and lots of roasties and new potatoes, topped with gravy.

“Save me some food, would you, darling.” Mycroft says with a smirk.

“Sorry, love.” Greg replies apologetically, looking down guiltily at his full plate.

“It's quite alright, my dear. Be sure to save some room for dessert though.”

Mycroft sits down across from his partner, filling up his own plate when he suddenly feels Greg's eyes watching him.

He looks up at Greg expectantly, “Yes, dear?”

“I was wondering, could you sit next to me for a change?”

“Of course, my dear.” Mycroft smiles, picking up his plate and moving around the table to sit next to his partner.

“Thank you, love.” Greg smiles brightly back at his partner.

The older man then goes back to his meal; devouring it as though he hasn't eaten all year.

Mycroft chuckles as he watches his partner shoving the food down his throat before beginning his own meal.

x..x

They eat the rest of the meal in comfortable silence until their plates are clear and Mycroft takes them to the sink.

“So, for dessert, we have double chocolate cake, strawberry cheesecake or strawberries with whipped cream or ice cream. What takes your fancy?”

“Well, apart from the delicious looking chef, I really fancy chocolate cake. Then maybe later we can start on the strawberries and cream.” Greg smiles suggestively, causing the younger man to blush.

Greg chuckles at the expense of his partner's embarrassment, picking up a knife and cutting two large pieces of chocolate cake.

“I'll get fat.” Mycroft comments sadly, looking down at himself.

“I don't care, Myc. I love you for who you are, sweetheart. Not what you look like. I'll still love you when you're old and grey.” Greg replies softly, walking over to his partner and resting his hands on his hips.

“Thank you, Gregory.” Mycroft smiles, bringing his hands up to Greg's shoulders.

“Come on, let's get fat together.” Greg smiles softly, grabbing Mycroft's hand and pulling him towards the couch.

The older man returns a few minutes later with a tray of two pieces of chocolate cake, a bowl of strawberries, a can of whipped dream and a fork.

“Gregory, there's only one fork.”

“I know that, silly. I'm going to feed you. It will be very romantic.” Greg grins at his partner.

“Well, in that case,” Mycroft makes his way over to their drinks cabinet, pulling out two glasses and a bottle of Glenfiddich.

“Whiskey?”

“Twenty-one year old, vanilla and toffee whiskey.” Mycroft corrects, pouring out two glasses for them.

Greg smiles as his partner hands him a glass, “Mm, it's gorgeous. The vanilla and toffee compliment each other perfectly."

“It's my favourite whiskey.” Mycroft comments happily.

“Mm, now, open up.” Greg orders, holding up the fork with chocolate cake on it.

Mycroft does as he's told and allows Greg to guide the fork to his mouth; opening it and dragging the chocolate piece off the fork with his mouth.

Greg smiles widely and continues to feed his partner until the plate is empty.

Mycroft immediately picks up Greg's plate and the fork, ready to return the favour.

“I knew you'd enjoy this.” Greg smiles and accepting the fork full of cake.

“This is quite fun, especially after a long day at the office.”

“Mm, I know.” Greg mumbles around the piece of cake.

Mycroft smiles at his partner softly at his partner. How had he got so lucky to end up with a man like Gregory Lestrade.

x..x

“Open.” Greg smiles, holding a piece of strawberry up to Mycroft's mouth.

Greg's eyes widen as Mycroft pulls the strawberry into his mouth; his tongue touching Greg's finger as he sucks it in with the strawberry.

“Delicious.” Mycroft smiles as he sucks the cream of his partner's finger.

“How about we carry this on in the bedroom?” Greg replies softly, his voice suddenly husky.

“Love to.” Mycroft smirks suggestively, picking up the two glasses of whiskey and disappearing into the bedroom.

“You've started something now, Lestrade.” Greg mutters to himself with a smile, grabbing the strawberries and cream.

“Gregory.” Mycroft calls from the bedroom, a slight purr in his tone.

“Coming, darling.” Greg grins, walking faster to the bedroom.

“Hello, my dear.” Mycroft greets from the bed, noticeably less clothed than before.

“H … hey.” Greg stammers, feeling his pants tighten.

“Join me, won't you.” Mycroft smirks, throwing the cover back.

“Try and stop me.” Greg grins, placing the food down and stripping naked with lightening speed.

He climbs into bed and picks up a strawberry; dipping a little bit into the whiskey before covering it with whipped cream.

“Open up.” He smiles at his partner, holding the treat up.

“Mmm. That's really nice.” Mycroft grins, swallowing down the strawberry. “Your turn.”

Greg hands him a piece of strawberry and the cream; the younger man repeats his partner's experiment and brings it to his lips.

“You're right. That _is_ nice. The mix of sweet and spice is so delicious.” Greg grins, swallowing the treat greedily.

“Whiskey, strawberries and whipped cream, well, I've definitely never tried that before.” Mycroft grins back, kissing his partner. “There was always something I wanted to try, despite being a sociopathic genius, I still had fantasies like normal teenagers.”

“What did you have in mind?” Greg asks, looking intrigued.

“Well,” Mycroft smirks, picking up a strawberry and cream, “This.” He adds simply, squirting a line of cream down his partner's chest.

He puts the strawberry in his mouth and drags it up the line of cream on Greg's chest; causing the older man to moan loudly. The younger man stops at he reaches his partner's mouth; encouraging him to take a bite.

Greg smiles and opens his mouth, biting the strawberry in half and kissing his partner.

“Mm. Delicious.” He moans softly, wrapping his arms around the younger man, “We'll have to do this more often.”

“I read that experimenting with food is one way to increase sexual arousal.” Mycroft smirks, kissing his partner passionately.

“I like the sound of that.” Greg smirks back as Mycroft lick the remaining cream of his partner's chest. “Oh, definitely.”


	9. Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Greg is taken hostage by a man seemingly involved with the case Sherlock is currently working on, the Holmes boys must join forces to find the criminal before it's too late.  
> But is it all just so black and white?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry, sorry! Well, not really ;) I got this idea and now look what's happened. Oops. I wanted a really angsty fic to finish off this little series. Apologies guys, seriously. Please don't hate me xxxx
> 
> Apologies, I don't even know who Harriet is in this fic. I think I got slightly confused with my other fic. Well, all sorted now :) xxxx

“Mycroft, what do you want?” The younger Holmes snaps, not looking up from plucking his violin.

“Mycroft, what's wrong? Are you alright?” John asks softly, walking over to the older Holmes carefully.

Sherlock's head snaps up with an awful crack, “Where's Lestrade? He's taken him, hasn't he?” The younger man growls in anger.

Mycroft finally looks up; his eyes are red and puffy from crying and his posture isn't quite right, the older man nods in reply.

“What?” John asks in shock, resting his hand on Mycroft's shoulder reassuringly.

“How long ago?” Sherlock snaps, for once not intending to be cruel.

“About an hour. He was supposed to go interview a witness before heading back to Scotland Yard, but he never returned. I got the call fifteen minutes ago.” Mycroft sighs, trying not to cry again.

“John, get your coat. This case just got complicated.” Sherlock tells his partner, walking out the room.

“We'll find him, Mycroft. After all, we've got the best men on the job.” John replies reassuringly, squeezing Mycroft's shoulder.

“Thank you, John.” Mycroft sighs, looking at the doctor.

“Let's go.”

John and Mycroft leave the room, hearing Sherlock bang on Mrs Hudson's door.

“What's wrong, dear?” She asks softly, sensing the young man's distress.

“We're off out, Inspector Lestrade's been taken.” Sherlock replies, his voice cracking a little.

“Oh, my dears. Goodness, Mycroft, come here, dear.” Mrs Hudson replies softly, walking over to the younger man and hugging him.

“Thank you, Mrs Hudson.” Mycroft smiles softly, gratefully accepting the hug.

“You're welcome, dear. Now, go on. Don't you worry about anything. Go.” She adds, ushering them out the door.

x..x

**Meanwhile**

“Ah, Inspector Lestrade, you're awake at last.” A calm voice says, walking in the shadows of the large warehouse.

“What do you want?” Greg asks, keeping a calm tone.

“What do all psychopaths want? Power. Control. To cause destruction.” The voice replies, a humorous lilt in his tone.

“I'm an officer of the law, you won't get away with this.” Greg growls, pulling on the ropes that bind him to the chair.

“Oh, but I will. Because I have it all planned out, you see. All I need is the right _time_.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Greg asks curiously.

“All in due time, Inspector.”

The man finally steps out of the shadows and lays another hard blow to Greg's already blooded face; cutting through the skin on his cheek.

“Don't worry, it'll all be over soon.” The man smiles, walking towards the exit.

The warehouse falls into complete darkness once more.

x..x

“All we have are a list of potential suspects and witnesses, thanks to Sherlock.” Donovan announces, her tone bitter on the latter half of the sentence.

“Who was the witness Lestrade went to see?” Sherlock growls, still angry at the current situation.

“A man named Kevin Hamsten. Lives at twelve North Cross Road.” Donovan replies, checking the file.

“John, Mycroft, let's go.” Sherlock orders, spinning on his heels and stalking away, not even bothering to wait for the two men.

“Thank you, Donovan.” Mycroft nods curtly, following after his brother.

John follows Mycroft out, glad when he sees his partner outside waiting for them. As soon as he sees them, Sherlock signals a taxi and allows John to get in first, Mycroft sitting next to his little brother.

Mycroft doesn't miss Sherlock reaching over and clasping his partner's hand desperately; afraid he'll disappear too. The older Holmes chokes back a sob at the sight and looks out the window instead. He also doesn't miss the way his little brother rests his hand on his, a gentle reassurance for his older brother. Mycroft looks at his baby brother; all grown up and a changed man, silently he wishes he had been a better brother to Sherlock. The younger Holmes feels his brother's gaze on him and looks back at him, a soft smile on his lips. Mycroft lifts his hand from under Sherlock's and rests it on top instead, squeezing gently and smiling back at him.

It's been a long time since the brothers showed this kind of public affection for one another; not since Sherlock was a child and came to his father's study to cry in Mycroft's arms over the death of their father. That was the first time the older Holmes told his baby brother that caring is not an advantage.

How right and yet so _wrong_ he was. He continues to wish he had been there for Sherlock more than just a constant shadow looming over him.

“We'll find him.” John interrupts suddenly, still looking out the window yet clearly directing the comment to both Holmes'.

Sherlock squeezes his partner's hand again and John looks back at them, “I promise. I won't stop until we bring Greg home safe.” He adds, the stone, solid determination of the soldier he is.

“Thank you, John.” Mycroft chokes out, staring back out the window as tears begin to fall.

He feels a hand on his knee and looks down then back up; John is leaning across his partner to give his own reassurance to the older man. John's hand squeezes briefly but firmly, before releasing and he leans back against his seat.

x..x

“He isn't here!” Sherlock growls, pounding his fist on the door before stomping back down the steps and looking around.

“Sher, you need to stay calm.” John reassures gently, walking to his partner.

“I don't _need_ to do anything, John!” The younger man shouts, fixing his partner with a glare.

“Please, Sherlock, for Mycroft's sake. _Please_ , darling.” John replies softly, touching his partner's arm.

Sherlock looks over at his brother and sees a broken man; he knows he will have to be the strong one for a change, he'll have to take care of Mycroft for once.

“You're right, John.” He says softly, cupping John's cheek. “Mycroft, have you got anything?”

“No, Sherlock, I've no idea.”

“Mycroft, focus. We have to work together.” Sherlock replies desperately, grabbing his brother by his arms.

“Well, we've seen what he's done so far. So, he's a psychopath, if I was a psychopath then I'd take my victim somewhere quiet. But not too far away because I want to be part of the action … A warehouse.” Mycroft deduces confidently.

John chuckles despite himself and receives a look from both Holmes'. “Sorry, it's just … the first time you kidnapped me, you took me to a warehouse. I just found it ironic.” He replies, giving an apologetic look.

“John, you're a genius. I could kiss you ...” Mycroft beams and hears Sherlock cough under his breath, “But I _won't_ , obviously. But that's the connection, all of the victims were personal. They must have all come into contact with him at some point and so he's exacting revenge. In his eyes, they did wrong to him so he wanted them to pay. Really Sherlock, you don't give the good doctor enough credit. He's brilliant.” Mycroft continues to beam at John, causing him to blush under the praise.

“You are, John. Absolutely _brilliant_. I always knew you were.” Sherlock smiles widely, before walking over to him and kissing him roughly.

John smiles in response, “Well, what's the nearest warehouse round here then?”

“It's just a couple of blocks away, we should get there in no time.” Mycroft replies hopefully, hailing another cab.

He gives the address of the nearest industrial estate just as Sherlock and John climb in the car after him.

x..x

“Here we are, boys.” The cabbie announces, pulling to a stop and waiting for payment.

Mycroft hands some money over and mentions something about keeping the change before scrambling out of the cab.

“Thanks, mate.” The cabbie calls, smiling to himself as he holds up the £50 note. “Thank you, indeed.”

“Right, Sherlock, John, you go around the back and I'll go through the front.” Mycroft informs the two men, walking up to the front door.

Sherlock nods in agreement before shoving John in the right direction.

Mycroft braces himself before opening the door, the harsh florescent lights burning his eyes as he walks down the hallway.

He finally comes to a door at the end and tentatively pushes it open.

“Gregory!” Mycroft calls, running over to the slumped form of his partner.

“Mycroft?” The older man whispers, his head rising with difficulty.

“Yes, my dear, I'm here. Are you alright?” Mycroft asks softly, looking over his partner's face and body.

“Apart from the cuts and bruises? Yeah ... I'm so glad to see you, My.”

“I know, darling, I know.” The older Holmes replies, cupping his partner's face and kissing his forehead gently.

“Ah, Mycroft Holmes, how good to see you.” A calm voice calls from across the large room, stepping out of the shadows.

“Kevin Hamsten. I thought I knew the name.” Mycroft replies coldly, standing up straight.

“Oh, so you remember me then? Good. How's little Sherly? I heard he's doing very well for himself now. The Consulting Detective. The _only_ one. Did you not bring him? What a shame. I was hoping for a little reunion of sorts.” Kevin replies coolly, smiling at the older Holmes.

“Why are you doing this?” Mycroft growls, stepping in front of his partner.

“Don't you remember? That day that I hurt little Sherly and you and your friends beat me to a pulp. Left me for dead in an alleyway.” Kevin growls back, calm demeanour now vanishing.

“What did you expect? You hurt my baby brother without due cause. But you _always_ did pick on people weaker than you.”

“He fucking asked for it! He said my mother was a cheat and my dad was a wife beater!” Kevin shouts, his voice echoing around the warehouse.

“Right on both accounts.” Mycroft comments with slight amusement and pride.

“Yes, well, now you're going to pay, Mycroft Holmes. You and your _boyfriend_. I've waited twenty years for this.” Kevin growls, holding up a gun.

“NO!” Greg screams before the shot echoes around the warehouse.

The bullet hits it's target, the gruesome crunch of metal hitting bone and Kevin laughs loudly; the only sound in the warehouse besides the muffled sobs of a man over the loss of his partner.

**TO BE CONTINUED ….**


	10. Til Death Do Us Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Greg is kidnapped, Mycroft finds him and tries to bargain with the man but it doesn't matter.  
> Is the end for Mycroft and Greg?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Seriously angsty fic. Character deaths too. Apologies guys xxxxxxx

“ _NO!” Greg screams before the shot echoes around the warehouse._

_The bullet hits it's target, the gruesome crunch of metal hitting bone and Kevin laughs loudly; the only sound in the warehouse besides the muffled sobs of a man over the loss of his partner._

“Did you here that?” Sherlock asks worriedly, staring at his partner.

“Yeah, I did. Gunshot. Sherlock, we need to get in there! Hurry up with the lock!” John cries desperately, trying to find a window to look through.

“I'm trying. It's a lot harder than it looks, John.” Sherlock snaps, continuing to fiddle with the padlock.

x..x

**Meanwhile**

“You didn't have to do that. We have two children.” The man sobs, looking at the body of his dying partner.

“Yes I did, Mycroft Holmes! I told you I'd destroy you and I will!” Kevin screams, waving the gun around.

“Then do it! Kill me!” Mycroft yells back, knowing Greg will die before John can save him.

“My … No … The chil-dren.” Greg chokes, fighting his body's instincts in order to talk.

“Gregory, I'm nothing without you. I need you. The children need you. If I survive, I know I will resent them … because they remind me of you. I cannot go back now. Besides I doubt he will let me. After what I did, I know I will die here. I'm so sorry for dragging you into this, Gregory, I never meant to hurt you. You would have been better never knowing me.” Mycroft replies, fighting the tears that threaten to fall.

“Don't say that … I love you … wouldn't have missed it … for the world. Don't give up, My. _Please_. You've … got to live. _Please_.” Greg sobs, now struggling to breathe.

“No, together forever … til death do us part. Those were our vows, Gregory. I'm just sorry that death came so soon for us.”

“No, My, _please_.”

“I love you, Gregory.” Mycroft replies softly, kissing his partner's forehead. “Let me untie him. He's going to die anyway. And I know how this ends. We won't run.” He informs Kevin calmly.

Kevin looks at him and Mycroft knows he's going to say no; but instead he nods in reply, obviously convinced Mycroft is telling the truth.

Mycroft works on the knots and finally frees his partner, bringing him into his arms.

“Go, My. Go now. Forget about me.” Greg whispers, now able to get more oxygen into his lungs.

“Never, Gregory. I'm staying, with you. I love you too much to forget you.”

“I love you too, My. Together forever?” Greg replies, nodding slightly.

“Together forever.” Mycroft agrees, kissing his partner as he feels his breath leave him.

The older Holmes closes his eyes as tears begin to fall before looking up at Kevin; who seems to pity the other man for a moment, before his eyes go cold again.

“One thing, if I may. Leave my family alone. Don't waste your time. Kill me then run as fast as you can.” Mycroft says strongly, gripping his partner tightly.

“How do I know no one will follow me?” Kevin asks, seemingly considering the offer.

“You don't, but the only man who could _possibly_ track you down with ease, is about to have his heart broken.”

“Sherlock.” Kevin replies, nodding in agreement. “So be it. Goodbye, Mycroft Holmes.”

“Goodbye, Kevin.” Mycroft replies sadly, looking down at his partner. “Soon, my dear, very soon.”

A second gun shot rings out in the large warehouse and Mycroft slumps to the floor, still gripping his partner.

x..x

“Sherlock!” John shouts, having heard the second gun shot. “This is why you should have let me use the gun!” He adds frustratedly.

“Got it!” Sherlock exclaims, pulling the chain off and yanking the doors open.

“Oh God.” John gasps, seeing his friends' bodies far too still.

“John.”

“Hello, Sherly. How've you been?” Kevin smiles brightly.

“You're here to kill me too.” Sherlock replies calmly.

“No, actually. I made a deal with your brother. But, you have to let me leave.”

“Like hell we will.” John growls, pulling his gun out and pointing it at Kevin.

“Come on now, boys. I wouldn't want to go back on the deal. I promised him that I wouldn't kill you. But I will if I have to.”

“John ...”

But it's too late, the shot rings through the empty warehouse and Kevin falls down dead.

“I had to, Sher. I couldn't let him get away with it.” John whispers, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Sherlock looks at his partner before walking over to him, “I know, my love, I know.” He replies, wrapping his arms around John tightly, feeling him melt into the touch.

“I'm sorry.” John whispers into Sherlock's shoulder, sobbing and shaking.

“What for?” Sherlock asks unsurely, pulling away from his partner to look at him gently.

“For not being able to save them.” John chokes, gripping Sherlock's arms tightly.

“This wasn't your fault, my love. If anyone is to blame, it's me. I _should_ have let you shoot the lock. I'm sorry.” Sherlock replies gently, kissing his partner's forehead.

“No, you were right. Conspicuous. They would have been dead sooner. Although, it looks like Greg took the first shot and ...”

“What, John?” Sherlock asks worriedly, wondering why John broke off so suddenly.

“Did you ever doubt that Mycroft loved Greg?” John asks randomly.

“Once, why?” Sherlock asks, moving over to his partner's side.

“Mycroft could have escaped. He was clever enough. But, he stayed, in fact, he allowed Kevin to shoot him. Look at his face, Sher, he looks … _peaceful_. He died by Greg's side because he couldn't live without him. I know the feeling.” John replies solemnly.

“As do I.” Sherlock whispers, resting a hand on his brother's chest.

“We need to call the police. This is a crime scene now. And one that we _won't_ be working.” John replies professionally, standing back up and looking for his phone.

“What? John, we _have_ to work this case.”

“No, we don't, Sherlock. Not even Donovan and the team will be working it. We're all too close …” John tells his partner softly, “Yes, hello, I need the police. There's been a double homicide … No, the killer is dead. I'm Captain John Watson of the Northumberland Fusiliers. I'm also a doctor. Yes, all three are … _dead_.” John speaks over the phone, his voice breaking on the last word.

John hangs up and turns back to his partner, “They're tracking our location now. When they get here, I'll explain the situation and I'll see if Donovan or someone else can take our statements tomorrow. Okay?”

“We should be working this case.” Sherlock replies, looking at the bodies of his brother and friend.

“I told you, we're too close. And when you're too close to a case, you back off. Now, come on, let's wait outside.” John replies softly, grabbing his partner's arm gently.

Sherlock pulls out of his grasp and kneels down next to his brother's body; pulling his ring off.

“Sherlock, you can't take that, it's evidence.”

“No, it's Mummy's ring. I'm going to take it back to her.”

“Sher, darling, they will give you all the personal effects when they have sorted this.” John says softly, reaching out to his partner.

“I'm taking it, John! I will not have some incompetent fool breaking the news to Mummy!” Sherlock snaps, standing up to glare at John.

“I'll let them know.” John sighs, holding a hand out for Sherlock.

Sherlock slips the ring on his finger before grabbing his partner's hand and allowing himself to be led out the building.

x..x

“Here you go, darling.” John says softly, handing Sherlock a cup of tea.

“Thank you, John.” Sherlock whispers, gratefully taking the tea.

“I was thinking, if you needed some space tonight, I can sleep on the couch.”

“No, please stay with me, John. I … I can't be alone right now.” Sherlock continues to whisper, staring into his cup.

“Of course, love. I was just thinking, that's all. But I'll stay, if that's what you want.” John smiles softly, resting his hand on his partner's knee.

“Very much so, John. I've never had to deal with Mycroft not … _being around_. I don't know how to feel.” Sherlock whispers softly, hands shaking the cup.

“Come here, sweetheart.” John replies gently, taking the cup from his hands and bringing the younger man into his arms. “I'm here, baby. I'm always here.” He whispers, stroking his partner's face.

“What about the children?” Sherlock asks suddenly, while John's strokes his curls.

“Well, given their high-risk jobs and the possibility of an early death, they left the children to us. Didn't want them put in care where there was a possibility they could be fostered into an abusive home.”

“So we have two children now? Mm, can we … get one of our own. I love the twins but I'd like one we could call _ours_. I think I like the idea of being a father. And I know you be a wonderful dad, John.” Sherlock whispers softly, holding his partner tightly.

“You … You want to adopt? Are you sure? Children are a _big_ responsibility, Sher. We can't rush into something like this mindlessly. Do you … really want a child?” John asks gently, his hands stilling as he tries to process the information.

“I believe I said I _did_ , John. Please don't make me repeat myself. Life is sufficiently short and I want what Mycroft and Greg can no longer have ... a family.” Sherlock replies, finally looking up at his partner with soft eyes.

“Right, okay. Mm, well, we'll have a couple of weeks with the twins while they settle and then we'll readdress the situation. Okay?” John says softly, kissing his partner's head.

“Alright.” Sherlock beams, snuggling into John's chest tightly.

“I love you, ya know that, right?” John asks softly, breathing into his partner's hair.

“Of course I do, John. And … I love you too.”

“I know. Let's go to bed, we can pick up Izabel and Sherlock tomorrow morning, _after_ we've given our statements that is.” John smiles at his partner, pulling him up off the couch.

“Goodnight, John. Sleep well.” Sherlock smiles as John tucks them into bed.

“Goodnight, Sher. I'll be here when you wake.” John replies softly, kissing his partner's forehead and letting him rest his head on his chest.

“Thank you, my love.” Sherlock whispers, listening to John's rhythmic heartbeat like some sort of lullaby.

John smiles softly, stroking his partner's curls as the younger man begins to drift into sleep.

“I'll do anything to keep you safe, my darling.” He whispers to the sleeping form of his partner before falling asleep himself.


	11. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the deaths of Greg and Mycroft, Sherlock is struggling to deal with his emotions, his statement to the police, as well as his nephew and niece.   
> Thankfully, John is more than supportive enough to handle everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd uploaded this chapter sooner. Don't know what happened xxx

“So, Kevin Hamsten. Did you know him, Mr Holmes?” Donovan asks professionally but with a hint of sympathy.

“Vaguely. When I was younger he assaulted me once. My brother Mycroft and some of his friends then repaid the favour.” Sherlock replies, staring at the desk he's sat at.

“So, other than that, you never had any contact with Mr Hamsten?”

“No, never before and never since. If I am honest, maybe if I had kept my mouth closed then my brother and Greg would still be alive. But I was just a child. No one really taught me to control my mouth.”

Donovan is speechless for a few moments; shocked by Sherlock's honesty and, unbelievably, vulnerability surrounding the situation.

She coughs and turns off the tape before replying, “Listen, I know we haven't had the _best_ relationship but … I'm sorry for your loss, Sherlock. Losing your brother must be hard and a friend too. Just a few more questions and then we'll wrap this up, okay?”

“Thank you, Sally. I am sorry for your loss also. Shall we carry on?” Sherlock says sadly, giving her a genuine soft smile.

“Yes, let's.” She turns the tape back on and starts on more questions, “When did you … deduce that Mr Hamsten was the murderer?”

Sherlock is momentarily surprised by her phasing of the question; she doesn't ask when he 'worked' it out, she actually uses the same term as Sherlock, almost as though she truly respects him.

“Well, the murderer had to live near all the victims, given that they were all killed around the same area. He also had a job which allowed him to choose his own hours so he could plan his day around his victims. Then he could torture and murder them when they had either just finished work or were starting work later in the day. All the times Kevin was off work coincided with the hours that the victims weren't at work. It's pretty obvi …” Sherlock stops himself before rephrasing his last sentence, “It was just a matter of thoroughly going through all the times of the murders and comparing them to the times that Kevin wasn't working. Some of the other suspects matched some of the times of deaths but not all. And none of them were reported not being at work around the time of the murders. Therefore, I deduced it was Kevin due to the evidence.”

Donovan nods in reply, grateful that the younger man didn't say that it was obvious.

_Clearly he has_ some _restraint_. Donovan thinks proudly, smiling softly.

“Okay, last question, Doctor Watson fired a kill shot into the murderer, did you feel he was a threat?” Donovan asks professionally, looking pointedly at the younger man, “What I mean is, did you feel your life was at risk and that if Doctor Watson hadn't have shot Mr Hamsten then you would have both been killed?” She continues to look pointedly at him, knowing that he'll understand what she's trying to put across.

Sherlock smiles before replying, “Yes, I did. The man was a psychopath and would have definitely killed any witnesses who might be able to identify him.”

“Understandable, Mr Holmes. Interview terminated at ten fifteen am.” Donovan replies, stopping the tape for the last time.

“Thank you, Sally.” Sherlock nods and gives her an appreciative smile.

“Well, we can't have John getting locked up now, can we? As much as you annoy me, Sherlock, I'd rather not have any more Holmes bodies in the morgue. Especially not with poor Miss Hooper as infatuated as she is, the news might just kill her.” Donovan replies with a slight smirk.

“Have you told Anderson yet?” Sherlock asks with his own smirk.

“Told him what?” Donovan asks with a curious look.

“That you're planning on ending your affair for a certain pathologist?” Sherlock smiles and quirks his eyebrow.

“What? No, you don't think … No … It's not ...”

“Try and deny it all you want, the signs are there, Sally. Ask her out, she can only say no. And besides, she's a lot better than Anderson.” Sherlock smiles wickedly before standing up and leaving the room.

x..x

“John, Donovan will be taking your statement.” Sherlock informs his partner, hand dropping to his shoulder.

“Right. I better get in then.” John replies matter-of-factly, trying to be the brave soldier.

He takes two steps before Sherlock grabs his arm and turns him round, the younger man leans in to kiss his partner softly, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

“I love you, John Hamish Watson.” Sherlock whispers into John's lips, resting their foreheads together before releasing his arm.

“I love you too, Sherlock Holmes. I always have.” John whispers back before turning and walking into the interview room.

“Did you know Kevin Hamsten, Doctor Watson?” Donovan asks professionally, but giving a soft reassuring smile.

“No. All I know is that he was a suspect in our case and that he was a psychopath.” Jon replies confidently, resting his hand on the table.

“So then, Mr Hamsten seemed dangerous to you?”

“Well, obviously, he'd been suspected of killing five people. It's not something a calm and cheerful person would do.” John replies, scoffing slightly at the absurdity of the question.

“Mr Holmes came to the conclusion that Mr Hamsten _had_ actually committed the murders base on matching times and dates. Could you confirm he was correct?”

“Well, yeah. I mean it seemed very coincidental that at the times and dates of all the murders, Mr Hamsten had arranged to have those hours off. Even I couldn't deny the evidence before my own eyes.” John replies calmly.

“Okay, last question, you have army training. Years of it, in fact. And you fired a kill shot into Mr Hamsten, does that mean that you felt he was a threat? Do you believe you would have both been killed if you hadn't of disarmed Mr Hamsten, Doctor Watson?” Donovan asks, meeting the older man's gaze.

“Definitely. He held a grudge with certain people and I believe he would have killed both me and Mr Holmes out of both convenience and revenge against the older Holmes.” John continues to remain calm, his hand steady as he lies it flat on the table.

“Alright then. Interview terminated at ten forty am. You can leave now, John.” Donovan replies with a soft smile.

“Thank you, Sally.” John smiles back, heading for the door.

“Oh, John, I'm sorry for your losses. Take care now. _Both_ of you.” She adds with a curt nod.

“We will. Oh, Greg and Mycroft's two children, they wrote in their will that if anything happened to them then the children would be put in mine and Sherlock's care. Is that correct?”

“Yes, come with me.” Donovan replies, standing up and walking through the door.

“Sherlock.” John calls and motions his partner to follow them.

“Do they know?” Sherlock asks Donovan sadly.

“Not yet. We thought it best coming from you two. They don't really know us and we didn't want to upset them.”

“Thank you, Sally.”

“In here.” Donovan replies sadly, opening a door to one of the rooms.

“Uncle Sherlock! Uncle John!” The twins exclaim, running excitedly to the two men.

“Izzy, Sher.” John smiles, scooping Izzy into his arms and hugging her tightly.

Sherlock bends down to pick up his name sake, gripping the little boy tightly.

“Uncle Sherlock, what's wrong?” Little Sherlock asks, immediately picking up his uncle's sadness.

“What do you mean? I'm fine.” Sherlock smiles brightly and little too fakely, kissing the little boy's forehead.

“It's daddy and father, isn't it? They're gone, aren't they? And now we have to stay with you?” Little Sherlock whispers, tears forming in his eyes.

“I won't lie to you, Sherlock. Yes, daddy and father are gone. And me and Uncle John are going to take care of you now. But listen to me, know that daddy and father loved you both very much and didn't want to leave you ...” Sherlock replies softly, looking between the two children as tears start to form in his own eyes. “But when you love someone, sometimes you … you have to leave them. And you have to so they will be safe.” He continues, now looking at John.

“But like Uncle Sherlock said, daddy and father didn't _want_ to leave you. It broke their hearts knowing that they had to go. But they'll always be right here.” John adds, pointing to Izzy's chest; right were her heart is. “And we will never replace them, _ever_ , but daddy and father wanted to make sure you stayed safe. So they asked us to look after you until you're all grown up.” He smiles sadly, stroking a few stray hairs out of Little Sherlock's face.

“Is it okay to cry, Uncle John?” Little Sherlock asks softly, looking almost pleadingly at his uncle.

“Yes, Sher, it is. And no one would blame you. Don't _ever_ be afraid to cry.”

“Father always said caring was a disadvantage.”

“Because he didn't want you to get hurt, Sherl. When you care about someone and they leave you, it hurts _so_ much. Sometimes you can't breathe from the pain of it. But when you love someone, caring is a _great_ advantage.” Sherlock smiles softly, pulling the little boy into his chest.

His little body shakes as he begins to sob into his uncle's chest, followed soon after by Izzy; who grips her uncle like he's about to leave her all alone.

The two men just stand there, holding the sobbing children in their arms before moving closer and wrapping an arm around each other.

“Don't ever leave me, John.” Sherlock whispers softly into the older man's ear, knowing that the sobbing will prevent the children from hearing his words.

“I won't. I promise.” John replies, knowing that it's a stupid thing to promise but he also knows that he won't go.

“If you do, just know that I'll come after you. I don't want to ever be without you. Not after all this time.” Sherlock continues to whisper, kissing his partner's temple.

“I'll do the same if you try to go too.” John replies with a sad smile, looking up at his partner.

“Let's take the children home.” Sherlock says softly, stroking the little boy's head to try and sooth the sobs.

“Yeah, let's. Oh, Anthea's going to bring some of the children's things round later. I'll text her when we get home.” John replies with a smile, walking out of the room after Sherlock.

“Alright. Who's room will they be staying in?”

“Well, I think yours is bigger but is it tidy?” John asks with a smile.

“Since I moved all my stuff into your room, it's pretty much empty.” Sherlock smirks, nudging John's shoulder gently.

“No experiments hiding anywhere then?”

“No.”

“So if I look under your bed, I won't find some disgusting mould or flammable experiments?”

“I'll move them when we get home.” Sherlock sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Thought so.” John grins widely and even chuckles a little.

x..x

“Here we go, kids. Don't worry, Uncle Sherlock threw all his experiments away. It's safe to sleep in.” John smiles down at the two children.

“Yes, isn't that _wonderful_.” Sherlock adds sarcastically, standing next to his partner.

“Shut it, Sherlock.” John mutters under his breath, looking back at the two children again, “Anthea is going to bring your stuff down in an hour. So, until then, make yourselves at home. Oh, Nana Martha is making tea soon, would you like her to get you some drinks?”

“Please can I have an orange juice, Uncle John?” Izzy asks softly, hands behind her back and rocking back and forth on her feet.

“Of course you can, darling.” John smiles, ruffling Izzy's hair gently. “Would you like anything, Sher?”

“I'll have an orange juice as well, please.”

“Alright then, two orange juices coming up.”

“Hello, dears.” Mrs Hudson smiles brightly, entering the room.

“Nana Martha!” The twins exclaim excitedly, running over to the older woman and hugging her tightly.

“It's good to see you, dears. Look at you, you're both so big.” Mrs Hudson replies with a smile, looking at each of the children in turn.

John smiles before leaving to get two orange juices.

x..x

“Do you think they'll be alright, John?” Sherlock asks suddenly, his head on John's lap.

“In time. Losing one parent is hard, but _both_ , it's like being abandoned. All we can do is care from them the best we can and keep reassuring them that Mycroft and Greg loved them. They're only children though so it's going to take a while for them to heal.” John replies softly, stroking his partner's curls.

“Are we going to be enough for them?”

“We'll have to be. Because I _really_ don't want to give them up. Harry hasn't got any children so the twins are the only nephew and niece I have. And I love them too much to let them go now.”

“I know. It's funny … They're not my brother's biological children but they are _so_ like Mycroft and Greg. Sherlock deduces things so easily and Izzy is sweet and charming just like Greg. They really are their fathers' children.” Sherlock smiles softly, tears brimming in his eyes.

“I know. It's probably because Mycroft and Greg adopted them from a few months after birth so they've picked up all the best bits about them.”

“Did you notice that Izzy looks a lot like Irene?” Sherlock asks curiously, raising his head to look at his partner.

“Does she? Well, I wouldn't know. Every time I saw Irene she was practically half naked.” John replies with a grimace.

Sherlock grins back at John and then chuckles, “That's true. Mm, how I love my sassy, awkward blogger.”

John blushes bright red, avoiding Sherlock's eyes and instead looking at the wall.

“It's true.” Sherlock adds, cupping John's cheek and directing his eyes back down.

“I love you too, my mad, eccentric genius.” John smiles sweetly, leaning down to kiss Sherlock.

“Hamish.” Sherlock whispers, causing the older man to look confused.

“What?”

“Hamish. That day Irene came to the flat, you said _Hamish_ , just in case you're wanting baby names. Well, I like Hamish. When we adopt, I'd like to name the child Hamish.” Sherlock smiles up at his partner.

“Alright then, Hamish it is.” John smiles back, feeling a warmth in his chest.

“You thought I wasn't serious about a child, didn't you? Even when I told you I wanted one, you still didn't _completely_ believe me.”

“Of course I did. I knew you wouldn't joke about something like that.”

“Good. Because I do, I want a child with you, John.”

John smiles, a tear sliding down his cheek; which Sherlock wipes away with his thumb.

“Soon, I promise.” John replies, stroking Sherlock's cheek.

“Three children running around the flat, Mrs Hudson's going to charge us extra as insurance.”

John laughs loudly, shaking his head at his partner, “What are you like, Sher?”

“She will. I'm sure Mycroft is giving her extra just to have ...” Sherlock breaks off, realising that he referred to his brother in the present tense despite him being dead.

“Sher?” John says softly, having heard his partner's mistake.

Sherlock curls into a ball in John's lap, hiding his face as tears start to fall.

“It's okay, baby. I got you. It's okay.” John whispers gently, bring Sherlock into his arms and hugging him tightly.

Sherlock continues to sob while John rocks him gently, whispering nonsense reassurance into his hair.

“Uncle John?” A little voice asks from the door.

John looks to the door to find Izzy stood in her pyjamas with her teddy in her arms.

“Izzy, hi. You're supposed to be sleeping, little missy.” John replies with a small smile.

“Is Uncle Sherlock okay?” Izzy asks timidly, walking into the room.

“He's just upset over your daddies. It's alright, sweetheart, come here.” John replies, motioning the child over to them.

Izzy walks over to her uncles, crawling into Sherlock's lap and hugging him tightly, “It's okay, Uncle Sherlock.” She whispers sweetly.

Sherlock wraps his arms around the little girl and buries his face in her hair as he tries to subside his own sobs. John wraps his arms around both and snuggles them into his chest, feeling Sherlock relax and his breathing steadying.

“Come on now, let's get you back to bed, Izzy.” Sherlock chokes out, his throat sore from crying.

He climbs out of John's lap and heads for the door, looking back at his partner in a silent plea for him to follow. John stands up and walks with his partner down to Sherlock's room.

“Can you both stay?” Izzy whispers as Sherlock lays her back in bed.

“Um.” Sherlock chews his bottom lip and looks at John.

“Of course we can, sweetheart.” John smiles, climbing into the small bed and wrapping his niece up in his arms.

Sherlock walks around the other side and wraps his arms around his nephew, feeling the little boy relax dramatically.

“Nightmares.” Sherlock mouths to John; who just nods in reply.

Within moments, Izzy is fast asleep while John and Sherlock lay staring at each other.

John looks back down at Izzy and his chest goes all warm again, “I want one of our own, Sher.” He whispers, not taking his eyes off the little girl clutching his jumper.

“As do I, John.” Sherlock smiles, looking down at Little Sherlock before placing a kiss to his forehead, watching as the boy smiles in his sleep.

“You're a natural.” John smiles softly, reaching to stroke his partner's cheek.

“I hope so.” Sherlock replies softly, holding John's hand to his face.

x..x

John falls asleep first; one arm wrapped around his niece and the other stretched across his nephew and partner. Sherlock looks at the three of them, smiling like a mad man. This is what he wants, a family with his beloved; curling up with the children, teaching them interesting things, watching them grow up. Sherlock wants it _all_. 

He stays awake just thinking about what it would be like being a father, having someone who loves him just as much as John (and Mycroft) does. Sleep won't come to the younger man because he's too excited and nervous, and bewildered. 

How did he get so lucky to have John in his life and as his husband?

The younger man looks back at his partner's sleeping form and smiles, “I love you, John Hamish Watson-Holmes.”


	12. Protecting Sherlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a distance, Sherlock Holmes seemed like just an average thirty-seven year old.   
> But that would be where you would be mistaken.   
> Sherlock Holmes, in fact, was far from ordinary. He was a genius, to put it simply.  
> He could deduce a whole person's life from just one glance, and he had, many a time.  
> Unfortunately, this day was different. Sherlock deduced people's life stories as he always did, but he deduced the life of a young boy who had a lot of friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a prequel to Revenge. People mentioned about their not being a back story there so I decided to write one. Its linked to A Series Of Mystrade Events but it's pre-Mystrade xxxx

From a distance, Sherlock Holmes seemed like just an average thirty-seven year old.

But that would be where you would be mistaken.

Sherlock Holmes, in fact, was far from ordinary. He was a genius, to put it simply.

He could deduce a whole person's life from just one glance, and he had, many a time.

Unfortunately, this day was different. Sherlock deduced people's life stories as he always did, but he deduced the life of a young boy who had a  _ lot  _ of friends.

**15** **th** **November 1988**

“Hey, Sherly.” An older boy calls in a gleeful tone, blocking Sherlock's path.

“Kevin, if you don't mind, I'd like to go home.” Sherlock replies, looking up at Kevin Hamsten through his fringe.

“Aww, isn't that cute, boys. Little Sherly wants to go home instead of having fun with us.” Kevin teases, his group of friends gathering round Sherlock.

“Yes, because I couldn't think of anything  more  _ fun _ than listening to an idiot with the IQ of a peanut like you  _ trying _ to bully me, of course not.” Sherlock drawls sarcastically.

“Ooh, listen to the attitude on him.” Kevin sneers, looking back at his friends.

“Thank you. Now, if you boys don't mind, I have homework to do. Not that any of you would know about matrix multiplication, due to you having the brain span of a dead ferret so goodbye.” Sherlock says with a fake smile as he tries to walk past the boys again.

“Are you calling us stupid?” Kevin growls, stepping closer into Sherlock's space.

“What part of that sentence didn't make that point obvious?” Sherlock asks, glaring up at the older boy.

“You little shit!” Kevin growls, shoving Sherlock backwards.

“Well, if I was really being a 'little shit' as you put it then I'd try and goad you by saying that your mother has cheated, twice, no, three times and that your father has been beating your mother since you were two, but ...” Sherlock is cut off as Kevin's fist connects with his jaw; causing the younger boy to stumble back.

“What did you just fucking say about my family, you little freak?”

“Oh, I do hate to repeat myself.”

“It was a rhetorical question, dickhead!” Kevin growls again, getting ready to throw another punch.

“Ooh, big word.” Sherlock smirks before Kevin punches him again.

“Let's sort this little shit out, Kev! Show him what happens to those who mess with us.” Another boy, Anthony Firefly, cuts in as he grabs Sherlock's arm and pulls him closer.

“Yeah, Tony, you're right.” Mark Thomas adds, grabbing Sherlock's other arm so that the two boys can drag him off the school grounds.

The other boys cheer in agreement and following the three boys and their victim.

Twenty minutes later, the group of older boys are interrupted from their beating of Sherlock by a black Land Rover pulling up at the end of the alley they dragged the young teen to.

“Well, well, well. If it isn't Mycroft Holmes and his group of genius nerds.” Kevin sneers, walking over to the older Holmes with a cruel smile.

“Kevin Hamsten, always a pleasure.” Mycroft replies with a too-sweet tone and a smile.

“What are ya doin' here, Holmes?”

“Well, twenty-five minutes ago a received a phone call regarding my little brother Sherlock. You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?” Mycroft replies with the a polite tone, but his eyes give of an unspoken threat.

“Might have seen him, yeah. He might have been mouthing off too.”

“Might I speak with him, please?”

“Tony, bring little Sherly over here!” Kevin calls back to the other teen.

Tony hauls Sherlock up by his armpits and practically drags him over to his friend.

“Matthew, put Sherlock in the back seat and take him home, please.” Mycroft instructs the older teen, his voice now betraying his anger.

“Of course, Myc, what should I tell Mrs Holmes?” Matthew Spencer, a tall skinny teen with glasses, asks with a forced calm.

“Tell Mummy that  _ I  _ am dealing with the situation.” Mycroft replies, eyes still locked with Kevin's.

“Come on now, Holmes. Don't do anythin' you might regret.” Kevin smiles, glancing back at his friends.

“We're equally matched, Kevin. Well, except that I hold a black belt in  Jujutsu .”

“Is that a threat, Holmes?”

“You beat my little brother to the point that he can barely walk, what do you think?” Mycroft growls, as four of his other friends step out of the car.

“I'll see you later, Myc.” Matthew replies, reversing the car and driving off.

“Come on then, Holmes.” Kevin sneers, as his friends come to join him.

“I'll kill you for hurting him.”

 

** 29 th July 2013 **

“You never told me why that psychopath did what he did.” John says softly, sitting down next to Sherlock on the couch.

“He beat me up for deducing his family and then when Mycroft found out, he beat him into a coma. One of which he did not come out of for three years.” Sherlock replies, gripping John tightly.

“Good. I'm glad. He never had the right to hurt you. No matter what you said. So why did he wait twenty-five years?” John asks, wrapping his arms around his partner.

“I wasn't the only person he'd hurt. He went to prison for fifteen years, then was let out for two and then went back in again for four and a half years before he was released again for good behaviour.”

John scoffs before replying, “Good behaviour, what idiot would let a man like that out for  _good behaviour_ ?”

“He said he had found God.”

“Bullshit.” John scoffs again.

“What?” Sherlock asks in a confused tone.

“If he'd found God, he wouldn't have come out of prison and decided to murder two people. The amount of criminals who say they've _found God_ , and then gone back to their old ways after being released is unbelievable.”

“Yes, well, he won't be let out again after this.”

“Thank God for small mercies.” John replies sadly, kissing Sherlock's hair.

“Yes. Thank God.” Sherlock sighs, snuggling closer to his partner.

Just then tiny footsteps interrupt their moment of contemplation.

“I'll deal with this, love.” John says into Sherlock's hair, climbing off the couch and making his way over to his niece.

“Uncle John, I had a bad dream, about Daddy and Papa.” Izzy whispers, rubbing her tearful eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart. I'll read you a story.” John replies gently, picking Izzy up and hugging her to his chest.

Her big, sad chocolate-brown eyes meet Sherlock's over John's shoulder and the younger man gets up off the couch.

“We'll _both_ read you a story, darling.” Sherlock adds with a soft smile, grabbing John's free hand.

x..x

“Will I ever forget Daddy and Papa?” Izzy whispers sadly, looking up at John and Sherlock.

“We won't let you, Izzy. I promise. Daddy and Papa will always be right here.” Sherlock replies, pointing to Izzy's chest.

“You won't leave us, will you?” Izzy asks, looking between her two uncles.

“Not ever, sweetheart. Not even when you're all grown up and don't need us anymore.” John smiles, brushing Izzy's auburn fringe out of her face.

“Promise?”

“We promise.” Sherlock and John reply together, grabbing each of her hands.

“Alright. I love you Uncle John, Uncle Sherlock.”

“We love you too, angel.” Sherlock replies with a smile, kissing Izzy's forehead as she drifts off to sleep.

“Shall we stay with them?” John asks, looking up at his partner.

“I think that would be best, John.”

“You take Izzy's side, I'll take Sherl's side. Alright, love?”

“Yes. I love you, John. Very much. Please, don't ever leave me. Otherwise, I will have to follow you.” Sherlock whispers, looking up into his partner's eyes.

“And I you, my love.” John nods in agreement, leaning in and kissing Sherlock.

“Goodnight, John.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” John whispers softly, curling up next to his nephew and reaching his hand across to Sherlock's side.

Sherlock grabs his hand and wraps an arm protectively around Izzy, kissing her hair.

“We promise.” He whispers into her hair, closing his eyes to sleep.

John sighs softly, watching his partner descend into sleep.

“I'll never leave you, Sher. _Never_.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> For http://archiveofourown.org/users/beccab/pseuds/beccab who mentioned about Mycroft's fancy car, if you all wanna see it, it's here -- http://glambertkitty93.tumblr.com/image/62229018475 xxxx

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Til Death Do Us Part](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012504) by [PrettyKitty93](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyKitty93/pseuds/PrettyKitty93)




End file.
